


These Violent Delights Have Violent Ends

by axzanier



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Enhanced, Gen, These things never end well, all the feels, from hero to defender, grumpy steve, thanos rising, the final story, time to wrap this puppy up, what else can go wrong, who is fucking with the universe now
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-05
Updated: 2018-01-09
Packaged: 2018-12-11 12:16:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11714226
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/axzanier/pseuds/axzanier
Summary: After the events of Sendai, Steve, Wanda, Sam try to figure out what to do next. Forced to go back into hiding they take it upon themselves to try and help other enhanced who face repression and hate across the globe.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I started this prior the big Infinity War reveal at D23. This story will be the last of the series and lead directly into the events of Infinity War.
> 
> I've completely revamped this story to be more in line with what's been hinted at in the trailer and the clues being dropped by the cast via Instagram and such.

Title:  _These Violent Delights Have Violent Ends_

Author: A. X. Zanier

Status: WIP

Rating: R (Language, violence, sexual situations, the usual)

Fandom:  _Marvel Cinematic Universe_

Disclaimer: a) The characters and basic story ideas of  _Captain America/Avengers/et al_  are the property of others including, but not limited to Stan Lee, Marvel Studios, Disney Studios. Any additional characters or story ideas are mine. I make no money from this intellectual exercise. b) This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any opinions or views expressed herein do not necessarily reflect those of the author and are used for storytelling purposes only.

Series: #4 Follows  _dancing with the demons_

Spoilers: Oh hell yes. Any part of the MCU is fair game.

 

 

These Violent Delights Have Violent Ends

 

His fist drives towards my stomach and I twist away barely in time, the metal arm brushing along my side with bruising instead of breaking force. I grunt, suck in a breath, and close with him, wrapping one hand around the back of his neck, long sweaty hair making my grip iffy at best, and use my right to drive hard punches into his kidney, his armour absorbing most of the blow, but he huffs out a breath, shifting in an effort to break my grip.

He finally succeeds with the simple expedient of placing his left hand on my chest and shoving me away, forcing me to stumble back several steps to regain my footing. I get my hands up, but not quick enough, his foot impacts my shoulder knocking me to the ground. I land on my side, an oof of air forced from me by the sudden stop. I roll onto my back just in time to see his foot coming down, not at my head, but my chest, putting my ribs at risk of being violently crushed under the hardened rubber the soles of his boots that grew larger and larger in my sight.

Somehow I get my hands up, wrap them around that appendage and stop the downward movement cold. He shifts weight in an attempt to complete the maneuver, but I am able to, not just hold him, but shove hard him enough to get him off balance, arms windmilling to keep from falling.

Knowing I have the upper hand for the moment, which I find amusing given I remained flat on my back, I hold tight and shift into a crouch that permits me to twist and knock his other leg out from under him.

He goes down hard, but instead of following after him with blows from my fists and feet much as he had to me, I back away panting, watching him warily from a defensive crouch.

Tired. So damn tired. It feels like this battle has been going on for long weeks, years even. So fucking long that I barely remember a time when we hadn't been battling, a winner coming out on top only rarely and never for any real length of time. We remain evenly matched no matter what the winds of fate brought upon us.

He slowly climbs to his feet, confusion at my lack of attack when he'd been vulnerable obvious though his eyes remain icy cold and lacking in any real emotions. He existed as little more than a tool, designed to fight, and kill, and comply.

His long sweat soaked hair falls before his eyes, untrimmed and uncared for. He breathes heavily, proving I've been giving as good as I'd taken during this never-ending battle.

He watches me for long silent minutes, his blank expression, and even blanker gaze, giving me no clue as what might be going on behind those deep blue eyes.

Finally, he nods slowly, though in response to what I have no clue.

"This isn't working," he states, the words sounding as if they have taken actual effort to articulate.

I blink, not certain what he refers to. We fight, to a draw most of the time, the war between us ongoing, neither of us able to give in or give up. Both wanting... needing to survive though I doubt if either of us knows why anymore. "Then what? I won't let you win."

I relax my defensive posture, standing up straight while keeping a wary eye on him. This could just be a new ploy, a trick to get me to off-guard long enough for him to take control. He does horrible things when running the ship, I will not permit him to commit another ghastly crime, no matter the provocation or need.

He shakes his head. "You don't need to win," he informs me.

My jaw clenches. If I don't win, he will, giving him control and that... that would not end well. Even with our handlers gone someone would realize exactly what dwelled within, what he could do, and use him for their our purposes. I could not permit that to happen. Uncontrolled, who knew what he would do, who he might kill. He was not the type to just settle down and live a quiet life. That had been me forcing it upon him. He required commands, structure, and a strong tight leash to be kept in check. My hand barely enough to keep this ship afloat much less steer it in the right direction.

I straightened the collar of my jacket, the uniform not as pristine as the day I had received it, wear having accumulated over the long years, but it would still do the job. "If I win you go away for good."

He tilts his head, watching me, lips twitching as if he wants to smile but cannot quite remember how. "But you need me."

I shake my head in denial. There is nothing about him that I couldn't live without.

"You know what is coming. Do you really think you stand a chance without me?"

To say that I  _know_  what is coming is a bit strong, but I had felt that Sword of Damocles hanging heavy over all of our heads since joining Steve and taking a turn at this hero thing. Something out there wanted humanity dead and would just keep trying until they succeeded. Maybe next time it would be a planet killer, a rock thrown at us from deep space whose impact would wipe the surface of our small blue world clean. We'd have no chance at survival, no way to escape, no mass exodus to any of the other worlds that had come to light in the last decade.

We would watch it come with horror and fear in our eyes and bodies and then die.

"And how can you help?"

He shrugs. "Perhaps I know more than you realize."

"And perhaps you will say anything to live."

He gives me a nod of acknowledgment, not about to deny the truth. "If we continue to fight we will be of no use to them."

I huff out a breath of irritation. We'd been plenty of use, but we'd also caused a fair share of trouble. Him making appearances at unexpected moments much to the detriment of the relationships I had been trying to build. "Then what do you suggest?"

"A truce."

I snort, laughter bubbling up and over at the mere thought of he and I doing anything other than continuing a war that had been going on for decades. "And what would that get me? A quick death by your hands?"

"No. If you die I die."

The laughter fades at his pronouncement. "I don't believe you."

"Your belief does not change the facts. I have knowledge, skills, but no real existence." He takes a cautious step towards me. "You exist in a way I cannot on my own."

"So?" I prompt, wondering what path he seemingly wants to lead me down.

He looks at me as if I am a complete dunce. "If we work together we can both live and, perhaps, survive what's coming."

"And how, exactly, would we do that?" I question, finding it hard to believe that he will compromise on anything, much less his existence. I know I won't, and yet... He does have a point. We will continue to fail so long as our fight did. Maybe, just maybe, together we can be what the world needed.

He must see the decision on my face and gives me a curt nod of affirmation. He holds out his hand, his left hand, the metal glinting in the light.

I contemplate the ramifications of my next move. If I take that leap of faith, if I trust him, trust that his words are the truth, that when this ends he and I will be a we instead of two souls constantly battling for control of the single body we lived in.

I will never be The Winter Soldier again.

I will also never be wholly James Bucky Barnes again.

I have no idea who I will actually become.

I step forward and grasp his forearm. "We do this together from now on."

He nods. "Together."

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've done a major rewrite of this story. The first chapter remains the same and I've salvaged some bits here and there, but I went in an entirely different direction. The first version was, put simply, too happy, so I felt the need to kill it.

  


_The Loss of a Hero._

The headline echoed that of so many others I had read and the article that followed, again, like so many others, recounting the tale of Sgt. James Barnes's life, capture, rescue, death, surprise resurrection, with a summation of his tenure as a prisoner of war thanks to Hydra, rescue, also known as the death of SHIELD, and subsequent use as a scapegoat by Zemo. All of this barely touched on, glossed over to get to the meat of the story: his heroics in Sendai.

Oh, there were definite mentions of him in other locales, pics of him rescuing children after singularity bombs had gone off portraying him as the savior those wearing rose-colored glasses wished him to be.

They had never been there for the bad days. When the Soldier had made a surprise appearance and went after those who called him a friend. Not that we held those moments against him, but those hazards were our burden to bear. The cost of trying to save someone who inherently felt unworthy of it.

The final images published felt like a punch in the gut.

Mostly cell phone pics of him being lifted out of the hole he'd been found buried in and being transferred to a gurney then an ambulance. EMTs working on him continuously.

While he just lay there lifeless and unresponsive.

The final photograph of me, from behind, only a hint of my profile visible, as I stood there in the rubble-strewn street and watched the ambulance pull away.

The impression left behind that of utter defeat and loss.

And a dash of hopelessness.

_Doctors have yet to determine, much less understand, what damage being at the event horizon of a singularity can do to the human mind. There are dozens of theories, of course, but, as with most theories, the truth can be much different. James Barnes saved thousands of lives that day, and while the damage to various structures was immense, there was not a single life lost; save one._

_James Barnes has been in what doctors described as a "comatose-like state" since that night. His body breathes, his heart beats, but his mind is gone. Death might have been kinder, at least then his friends and all those who are indebted to him could move on._

_Instead, we wait and we continue to hope._

I set the magazine aside and glanced at the headline strewn across another.

_War Criminal Brought Down_

I knew what that one would say. I'd seen it written a hundred times a hundred different ways, but it always boiled down to that no matter the circumstances of his plight the damage wrought by The Winter Soldier outweighed any possible sacrifice made in the here and now. That, unwilling or not, Bucky had still committed those crimes and should pay for every life he had destroyed. He, of all those that had been members, the only known remnant of that organization. Of course, they wanted him to pay for every single one of their crimes.

And there had been days Bucky had seemed to want the same. To purge the memories of what he had done, the pain he had caused by letting them do as they wished. His guilt would never be assuaged even if he were to go willingly into their shackles, place his head on the bloodied and worn block with no hint of a fight.

I had been the one to persuade him otherwise. The one to convince him to join me. To try to be the hero he once had been. To show the world that Bucky Barnes and The Winter Soldier were not the same and that the latter had died when Hydra had.

My foolishness had brought him to this.

_So long as James Barnes lives the debt shall not be paid. The names of all those he killed may not have been officially released, but there have been dozens, the perhaps best known of which being Howard and Maria Stark. Of course, the revelation of this knowledge led directly to the split in the senior members of the Avengers._

_No matter the good deeds he has done in the months since the U.N. bombing in Vienna, he must be made to pay for his crimes. Some want the world to believe he has discharged his debt by saving those he could when singularity bombs went off around the globe._

_Others disagree._

_Until he has been put on trial, his every crime recounted for all to hear, when every bit of Hydra intelligence has been taken from him, then and only then should he be found guilty._

_This half-life, this undeath they claim he lies in; damage caused by being far too near the event horizon of the singularity, is not and can never be enough payment for his sins. They say he might never wake up. They say that with his enhancements he might live for years, decades. Perhaps even centuries._

_Longer by far than any of his victims._

_His current whereabouts are supposedly unknown, however, The King of Wakanda has proven to be a sympathizer to Barnes's plight and many believe him to have found succor in His Majesty's homeland once again._

_It's time… No, it is far past time that The Winter Soldier faces the consequences of his many crimes_.

"For fuck's sake, Steve, what are you doing?" Sam yanked the magazine from my hand with a look of utter disgust on his face.

I shrugged. "They were here."

His eyebrows went up on his forehead, eyes flicked to the tablet that sat on the same table I'd grabbed the magazines from. "This crap is the last thing you should be reading."

Again I shrugged. I'd already finished what work I could, had done what I could to wear my body out, and that left my mind to convince to slow down for a while, so I read what had been on hand. But Sam had a point, the words on the page had only increased the sense of worthlessness that currently subsumed me.

Much as that one article had detailed, Bucky remained alive only in a technical sense. His mind, gone. Anything but the most basic and necessary functions of survival missing. His brain wave activity generating both concern and interest. His doctors trying to understand exactly what had happened to him during those long minutes he'd been caught in the pull of the singularity.

"Sam-"

He sighed heavily and sat down in the nearest chair. "What do you want to do now?"

I shook my head. "I don't know. Wait, I guess."

Sam sat back in the chair, eyes going wide. "Wait? For what? For Barnes to wake up?"

I rubbed a hand over my face. "Yeah. Maybe. Sam, last time I walked away Hydra took him."

"Steve, last time you and everyone around you were certain he was dead." He waved at the bed where my oldest living friend lay silent and unmoving. "He's right there, and barring an armed attack on this sovereign nation, as safe as he will ever be."

I knew that I really did, but hearing Sam point it out made me want to scream in frustration. "What else do I have to do? They cut us out of the last of the retrievals. Hell, Ross tried to arrest us as soon as they became certain the bombs had all been recovered."

"What about the rest of the power cells?"

"What about them? Even if we managed to get to some of them before Ross, he still has more than enough to play with. I can only hope Tony is watching them."

"You think he'll stop them from making weapons with them?" Sam asked sounding incredulous.

"Yeah, I'm sure." I could remember his disgust at the Phase II weapons we'd discovered on the helicarrier. I doubted his opinion on them had changed over the last few years. And Ultron had taught him to take care of how he used his power to the point where he'd relinquished it to others. Still, I doubted that even a direct order from Ross would convince him to make a bomb that could potentially be used against civilians.

"So, you're just gonna throw in the towel? Let the world save itself for a while?" Sam sounded thoroughly frustrated though I failed to understand why. it wasn't like he'd planned to be a superhero, I had dragged him right back in that life.

"It's not our fight any longer," I pointed out.

"Didn't think Captain America gave up, ever."

Anger bubbled up and over. "I'm not Captain America any longer," I reminded tone dark.

He snorted in derision. "Like Steve Rogers is known for backing down," he sneered. "Why don't you want to fight?"

I surged to my feet. "Fight for what? Truth? Justice? The American Way? Those lost their meaning while I slept. Hydra is gone. The only evil I see is one I can't change because it's in people's hearts." I stopped my jerky pacing beside the bed where Bucky lay silent and unaware of the spinning of the world about him. "People used to look at us as heroes, and now they are afraid of us. Afraid we'll use our strength against them instead of to protect them. We can't save them if they won't let us."

We had become tools, useful under the right conditions, but to be forgotten about when not needed for a specific purpose. They seemed to think we cared for nothing beyond the fame and notoriety that came with playing the sacrificial martyr. None of us wanted to die, but we were willing to do so in order to save others, save the world. And yet... and yet they tried to blame us for the cause of it no matter the lack of involvement.

They painted us as villains regardless of the good deeds committed and the blood left behind to soak into the ground marking our time like a Kilroy was Here.

Maybe, just maybe, the time had come to actually retire, to just live my life as an ordinary human.

"How about for him?" He waved at the unconscious form on the bed.

"He's out of the fight, possibly for good." I hated admitting that, but I had to face the truth. Buck might never get up from that bed, never open his eyes, never do more than sleep for the rest of eternity.

"How about for others like him then. Enhanced. You're not alone in this anymore. There are others out there with no guidance and no wars to fight other than survival. "

"What? Am I supposed to play god for others with gifts? Collect them and build them into an army? SHIELD is already trying that. Using drugs so humans can play the part of Inhuman." I shook my head in disgust at that. I understood why to a degree, but the fact that they still tried to recreate the serum that had been used on me not something I'd ever feel right about. All sides seemed to want an army of enhanced but were not willing to do so without having controls. And that would never be anything other than dangerous. Power corrupts. Unless you were lucky enough to be the good man wielding it and, sadly, most were not. Most were simply human and overall, humans lacked the capacity to use their power wisely.

"Are you telling me you're not better than them?"

"Exactly. I'm not better than them. I just... I just want to do what's right in a given situation." I had no other way to explain it. Yes, right and wrong weren't so black and white these days but it seemed fewer and fewer people cared which side they chose so long as they were not personally inconvenienced. "And this time I think I need to back down."

Sam heaved a great sigh and shook his head.

And then I got that he'd been trying to steer me in a particular direction and I'd gone so far off course he had no clue how to drag me back. "What happened?"

"Wanda."

I couldn't recall anything on the news regarding our witch, but that didn't mean much. "Isn't she still with Lang?" I hadn't wanted to send her back to the base all alone, so Lang had offered to show her San Fran and she'd accepted.

"Yep," Sam assured me, "and there was an... incident."

I could imagine the look that crossed my face at those words.

"Not their doing, in fact, they saved dozens of lives. That said, they think they were set up considering how quickly an ATCU Team showed up."

"What happened?" I asked leaning back against the cabinets lining one wall. They held anything that could possibly be needed should Bucky's condition change for better or worse. "Just the overview for now."

He nodded. "Lang was showing her the town and they went out to Alcatraz with a tour group. The boat that came in after theirs had a half dozen characters that set off Wanda's hinky alarms. Scott agreed something felt off so they broke away from their group to investigate."

"And they found something."

Sam nodded. "A bomb of some kind. The parts snuck in separately to be assembled on site. Trouble was some of the parts were as dangerous as the whole and they used 'em to try and blow the place up anyway."

Great. Just fucking great. "Injuries?"

"Civvies, minor for the most part. One of the tour boats got hit. They got everyone to shore, but that water's cold."

"And Wanda used her powers to save them." I didn't even have to ask. If push came to shove she would do the right thing though she still feared another tragedy like the one in Lagos. Save some and kill others by mistake. And occasionally she hesitated, afraid or unwilling to use her gift, that fear overriding the months of training.

"She had some help from Lang, but yeah. And somehow the ATCU got there before the SFPD."

"Well, now, that's interesting."

"I thought you might feel that way. So it's looking like Wanda needs a pickup-"

"And you think it's time to get back to business."

"Well, I don't think we should be sitting around here waiting."

Just the thought of leaving caused my gut to clench and my heart to pound. I didn't want to leave Bucky, didn't trust anyone other than me or Sam or Wanda to watch his back, but... but we couldn't stay here forever. My reaction must have shown on my face.

Sam put his hands out palms up in placation. "He doesn't need us here. Not really. Yeah, he's an awfully pretty Sleeping Beauty, but neither of us is gonna be the one to kiss him awake."

I tucked my hands into my pockets and let my head drop until all I could see was the floor by my feet. He had a point, a valid one, but that didn't change the fact that I wanted no part of leaving him alone. "What if he wakes up?"

"I don't think he's gonna just wake up, do you?"

I didn't want to think about that. Didn't want to face that harsh reality, not quite yet. But Sam, much like Sam often did, made me see what I often could not manage on my own. "No. He's lost in there."

Sam set his hand on my shoulder. "He'll find his way back. we just gotta give him some time."

I turned to meet his eyes all full of concern for me and our friend. I nodded. "Let's go get Wanda."

 


	3. Chapter 3

If I see a situation pointed south, I can't ignore it. Sometimes I wish I could.

On this occasion, I hadn't seen the situation even start. And, of any of us, I should have. But in my folly, I had presumed we, the human race, had learned tolerance. When I walked away from SHEILD I hadn't looked back, not really. I'd been peripherally aware of the hunt for the remaining Hydra members, but had other things on my plate at the time and hadn't followed up as diligently as I obviously should have.

I'd been too focused on finding Bucky and tracking down Rumlow to notice what had been happening and, now, it might be too late.

"How many have gone missing?"

"Dozens. SHIELD has been recruiting some, but others are just gone. Most after an encounter with the ATCU." Sam tapped a few more keys, names of missing Inhumans or suspected Inhumans scrolled past, some with photos and basic descriptions of their abilities, but most had little more than a name.

"What the hell is Talbot doing," I muttered.

"Protecting normal people, I imagine," Wanda stated with a decided sneer in her voice. "Or trying to hide the mistakes."

"Wanda, you are not a mistake," I told her with certainty. Granted the reasons behind her choosing to be enhanced had been motivated by vengeance against Tony.

"They think I am." she waved at the screen.

"That doesn't make them right," I assured her. She hadn't always used her powers for the right reasons, but I had never believed her to be an inherently bad person. No, she had just been angry and in need of answers. Ultron had granted her that opportunity, but in the end, she had turned on him when she realized that he too did not have the answers she'd been looking for.

No, those had been within her all along.

"I know. Still, doesn't mean I want to be recognized when I go into town for supplies."

"We're in the backwaters of Canada, I doubt they'll care." I'd been recognized a half dozen times based on widened eyes and the occasional pointed finger, but the stores still took my money and not once had I seen the local police or the RCMP to take me away.

For the most part, the entire country had a live and let live attitude. So long as we caused no trouble we'd be left to our own devices. Trudeau may have signed the Accords, but the locals hadn't and the chances there were zero enhanced or Inhumans in the country an impossibility. The supplements that had been contaminated shipped worldwide under a variety of brands and names. By the time the governments had learned the cause it had been far too late to prevent the final results. Hundreds of Inhumans created over the span of a few weeks.

"Huh," Sam muttered as he continued to scroll through the data he'd accessed.

Wanda settled into one of the other chairs and propped her booted feet on the edge of the conference table. "What good news do you have for us now?" She had been no more happy about learning the truth than me.

"Looks like they've been waking some of them up." Sam pulled up a few specific files and tossed them on the big screen on the far wall. "All of these had been ambered for a year or more due to aggressive behavior, but now they're not only awake but listed as consultants for SHIELD." He glanced over his shoulder at me as I began pacing again. "It doesn't make any sense."

"What were their crimes?" Wanda questioned, her brows drawn together in unhappiness.

Sam tapped a few more keys. "Nothing, apparently. None of them had a criminal record before being ambered."

Wanda's eyes flashed red. "So they were taken simply because they were different?"

Sam frowned. "Yeah, it's looking that way. Isn't that, like, illegal?"

He aimed that last at me. "Not with the Accords," I growled.

Sam shook his head. "All of these predate the Accords. Most were ambered just a few months after the contamination had been confirmed."

"So why wake them now?" Wanda questioned, and it was the same one I had.

"Did any of those now awake sign the Accords?"

Sam tapped a few keys then nodded. "All of them. Looks like those that didn't, were ambered again."

"Shit," I muttered seething.

"Steve?" Wanda queried, somehow knowing I'd come to a conclusion.

"Ross is using the Accords to conscript Inhumans," I explained, wishing I hadn't come to that conclusion, but how else could you explain the move. "Not a single one of them had a trial or had done anything to warrant ambering."

"We don't know that, man. Some of these people are dangerous and have hurt or killed others." He pulled one up. "This poor guy dissolved anything he touched including several people. He had zero control over his... gift."

"And that's his fault?" Wanda argued, her eyes narrowing dangerously.

"Not saying that I swear it, just sometimes you gotta think about the greater good is all."

The disappointment that washed over me at his words actually hurt. Granted, he did have a point, but at the same time, I hadn't expected to hear it from Sam. "So, what's next? Internment camps? Why not just kill them all?"

Sam's eyes went shockingly wide. "This isn't Nazi Germany."

"Tell me how what they're doing is any different." I stopped in front of the big screen, my eyes locked on his and waited.

He opened and closed his mouth three times with no words coming out. Then he sagged back into his chair, a hand rubbing the back of his neck. "I can't," he finally said at just above a whisper. He surged to his feet, the chair rolling backward until it thudded softly into the wall. "How the hell did this happen without any of us noticing?"

I shrugged. "Easily, apparently." I turned around looking over the dossiers on the screen before me, wondering how we could help.

"So what do we do?" Wanda asked, her feet back on the floor as she slowly rotated the chair to look back and forth from me to Sam.

"What can we do?" Sam growled as he stared out the window at the late fall foliage across the gorge from us all bright reds, yellows, and oranges making the steep hillside a kaleidoscope of color.

"We save them," Wanda snapped. "We help them. Get them out of the US if nothing else."

"We fight," I added. "We've got bases all over the world where we can hide people if needed."

Sam tapped the glass with a single finger for a few seconds. "An underground railroad for enhanced?"

I nodded. "Why not?"

"And maybe recruit a few as well," Wanda suggested sounding completely innocent.

Sam sighed. "How is that different from what Ross and SHIELD are doing?"

Wanda got to her feet, smoothing her skirt down as she did. "Because they can say no and we'll help them anyway. That's how it's different."

"This is gonna piss Ross off."

"And?" I had no issues with that.

Sam shook his head, chuckling. "I should have known better than to suggest that, it's just another reason to do it."

Since I couldn't argue the point I remained silent.

"It's gonna take some serious work. We'll need to make some real-world contacts, set up safe houses-" He spun about to face me finally. "Where the hell do we start?"

I pointed to one of the files on the screen. "I'm thinking here." The code name for the Inhuman listed as "Oracle" and I suspected it to be for a legitimate reason.

"Perhaps track down Natasha?" Wanda suggested. "She should be able to jump-start our contacts."

I nodded. "Wanda, contact Lang see if he can assist you with that."

She bounced on her toes and swept past me and out the door heading for the communications array in the main computer room.

"And me?" Sam asked.

"Find her." I tapped the monitor.

~^~^~^~

 

"Buck, it's a mess out there and I'm not sure what we should do." There had been a few changes since I'd last seen him. They'd put in a feeding tube to go with the IV. A few more sensors and machines had been added, though none were intrusive. The tech here beyond anything I had ever seen and that included all of Stark's toys. And the outside world had no clue whatsoever. This secret had been easy to keep.

The other major change had been in his brainwave activity. The increase a good sign, but as they had no idea what kind of damage had been done, they honestly had no clue if the change an actual improvement or just a change. He still showed no signs of consciousness, his current state most closely resembling that of a coma even though the brain activity differed.

They'd gone over everything with me, answered my questions as best they could and then left us alone.

"We've moved forward with the plan, one you'd probably hate, and you'd be right to, but..." I sighed heavily. "It's bad out there. The hate. The unreasoning fear. There's this hate group called the Watchdogs. They got a hold of the Inhuman registry list and took it upon themselves to 'eliminate the problem'. They're just people for fuck's sake." I leaned forward, forearms on my thighs, fingers laced so tightly together they turned white. If I grasped the arms of the chair I would have crushed them easily.

"And now those they ambered are being woken up and given the option of more unjust imprisonment or signing the Accords and facing a life of monitoring." I bent my head down, lacing my fingers behind my neck and squeezing my eyes shut. "We went to fucking war for the same damn thing. Does no one ever learn?"

I gave up and surged to my feet. "We fucking died to prevent anything like this from happening again and yet here we are. Right back where we started, facing a war we didn't want; only this time it's our own government leading the charge. Deciding who is worthy to be part of the community. When did they forget?" I stalked around the room, venting all the anger and disappointment to the one person who would understand. Only he could not commiserate with me.

"We've set up some of the old Hydra bases in Europe as safe houses." The irony had not been lost on me. Granted Hydra had been an organization within the Nazi party, one with slightly different goals admittedly, but still following that party line of superior genetics and dominant species. Then their target had been religious in nature. Now, it had become literal genetics. Going after those with that rare gene that permitted terrigenesis. there'd been talk in recent weeks about testing children to see if they had the gene - as a preventative measure of course.

What would come after? That concerned me. And given I had lived through a similar destructive pattern, had a fair idea how this one would end. People would die, but I suspected that if push came to shove, and it always did eventually, the Inhumans would fight back. I could not predict the winner, I only hoped to prevent the war.

"I don't like this, Bucky. These people should not be ostracized. Not locked up just for having gifts. Should not be forced to sign the Accords just to live their lives. And Ross..." I trailed off. We'd confirmed it had been indeed Ross who had ordered those ambered to be woken and offered the chance to go back to their lives; with conditions of course. The ATCU and SHIELD handled most of it, but in the end, Ross finally got what he wanted: an army of enhanced at his beck and call. He'd tried to control Banner and created the Abomination instead. That failure had nearly cost him his career.

I kind of wished it had.

He had taken full advantage of the Accords and worked the system to his advantage.

I wondered if Tony realized what the man had done.

"We managed to contact Nat, though she wasn't thrilled that we'd been able to track her down. She put us in contact with a few people who'll be able to help us." I paced around the bed he lay upon not reacting to anything I said. "This time it's our government that's become the bully. I don't think I have any choice but to fight back."

"And to make matters worse, since we prevented those bombs from going off the other batteries have gone missing one by one. Fair bet Ross or someone under his thumb has been scooping them up. Even if they don't create anything new they still have Hydra weapons from the war. I can't see him not using them once he finds the right excuse. I guess the bright side is that without the Tesseract they won't be able to make more.

"And we're the ones branded criminals," I muttered in utter disgust.

I glanced up at one of the cameras, knowing all of this would end up in front of T'Challa eventually, but so long as I told him nothing directly he could claim no prior knowledge to what would begin occurring in the near future. He'd offered to make some upgrades to our quinjet, which I accepted with good grace. The man already knew he could call on me or mine anytime if he needed our assistance. Hell, I could pay him three times what the work was worth without blinking. Hydra, if nothing else, knew how to handle their finances and thanks to Lang we were flush for the next several decades.

I would not involve him in this anyway. He had enough on his plate and had warned me with seemingly innocent comments that his reign had not been going as smooth as he had hoped. My ability to visit may be restricted for some time until it could be sorted out.

Making this visit all the more important.

"Things are coming to a head, so I might not get back here for a while. Maybe it's for the best that you get to sleep through all of this. You've been through enough and deserve some peace."

"As do you."

I turned to see T'Challa leaning against the door frame, watching me with a serious gaze.

"Not yet. I still have work to do."

He nodded slowly. "So long as you are certain it is the right thing to do."

I had never asked him what he thought of me not signing the Accords, never wondered if he assisted me and mine out of a sense of obligation or because he actually trusted me. "I am."

"Then I wish you success in your endeavor. He will remain undisturbed so long as he is here."

"Thank you. You'll let me know if anything changes?" I understood the risks inherent in contacting me, but he didn't seem overly concerned.

"Of course." How he made those two words sound so magnanimous beyond me, maybe it came with being King. "My country has been insular for an extraordinarily long time, but I fear that is about to change."

I prepared to offer whatever assistance he might need but a calmly raised hand kept the words trapped within.

"You have your burdens to bear as do I. While I appreciate the unspoken offer it is unnecessary at this time. Besides, your plate is looking to be quite full in the near future." He gave me a grin that reminded me more of a large predatory cat bearing its teeth than an actual smile.

I could only hope when both of us came out the other side things had gone in our favor.

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A character I created during Inktober found her way into this story, in a somewhat pivotal role no less. I think you'll enjoy her appearance here. Steve won't.

We targeted those who had recently been released from Amber, figuring they might be the ones most likely to take the chance to get out from under the thumb of government control. Some of them probably taking the deal solely to not be sent back into storage. I couldn't' say I wouldn't do the same, especially if I hadn't had a trial much less been convicted of a crime. Most of them had simply resisted the mandatory discussion with members of the ATCU.

Some had resisted harder than others.

She had been one of those. I could appreciate that.

She had chosen the location for the initial face-to-face meeting. We'd first reached out to her a few weeks ago via email. Eventually, it had progressed to text messages, our end encrypted to the nines thanks to Lang, with no chance it could be traced back to our location. There were still some risks, but most would have been at her end. Not fair, really, but how it had to be. If backed into a corner she'd be more than welcome to tell whoever she reported to exactly who she suspected had contacted her, but she'd never even mentioned concerns of that nature in any of our conversations.

"Sara Guthrie?" Sam had suggested that we use code names, just in case she had followers when out and about in the big wide world. Her real name decidedly Russian, the last name at least, not that it really mattered. Nat was about as Russian as they came and still had chosen to work for SHIELD. Near as we had been able to verify the young woman in front of me had been born and raised right here in the good ol' U. S. of A.

The instant she turned about I realized the photos in that file had failed utterly to do her justice and must have been taken shortly after she'd been released from the amber. Instead of sallow with scraggly dark hair, she appeared healthy, her pale blue eyes bright, hair so black the sunlight picked up blue highlights. The contrast between hair and eyes softened by the cafe au lait tone to her skin. The smattering of freckles across her cheeks and the bridge of her nose did not lessen her beauty, only made it more endearing.

She began with a bright smile that quickly faded into a look of resignation. "So, that's how this one is gonna go," she muttered, more to herself than me it seemed, though she had to know I would overhear.

I tipped my head slightly, watching her from under the visor of the baseball cap and dark glasses I wore. I let my hair grow and hadn't shaved in a few weeks, which completely changed my look. I don't think there was a single picture anywhere on the planet of me with facial hair. Including from back in the day. Captain America was expected to be clean-shaven, so I was. These days though, I answered to no one but myself, and winters in Canada were cold even with the furnace replaced.

We stood outside a ubiquitous coffee shop, not a Starbucks, but one of the clones that had managed to carve out a niche with the locals. Public, probably cameras that could see both of us and make this seem as nothing more than an innocent meeting with an old friend.

"Jacob Marley, I presume?"

I nodded, understanding her not wanting to compromise her home with my presence. I glanced down at her wrist and the fancy smartwatch there.

She lifted her hand up, so I could better see it. "My leash as I am sure you are aware."

I nodded. I figured they would be monitoring her somehow. She seemed to have a fair amount of freedom in her daily life though we remained uncertain what role she played. We only had her code name 'Oracle' to go by, but none of us thought it might be literal.

"Can I buy you a coffee?"

She blinked, then laughed softly. "You don't have to, I'm going to be declining your offer."

"You haven't heard it yet," I pointed out though considering who I was it wouldn't be too hard to make a wild guess and be correct.

She simply shook her head. "Jasmine tea if you would and may I suggest black two sugars for you. Today's dark roast is quite good."

I didn't ask how she knew my preferred cup of joe, just nodded. "You'll be here when I get back, yes?" Not that I'd blame her if she took off, not wanting to risk the little freedom she had gained by being seen with Steve Rogers.

She got this faraway look in her eyes and answered in an oddly lilting tone, "Oh yes, I'll still be here."

I walked past her and into the cafe, inhaling the wonderful scent of dark coffee and pastries. I got into line, which took me right past said pastries and I chose a couple hoping she would appreciate the gesture. When I reached the counter I ordered the tea, debated for a moment ordering the fancy latte drink that had caught my eye but instead followed her suggestion of the dark roast. The barista put everything into a tray and handed it me when the espresso machine began making a horrendous groaning sound followed by a blast of steam that sent the pair using it jumping backward. A young man braved the steam and got the machine turned off. "Sorry, folks, it's dead."

A chorus of boos followed that pronouncement, but the manager was quick to offer to reimburse all those who would be going without along with free regular coffee. There were still a few grumbles, but most seemed content with getting something for free.

I grabbed a few sugar packets on my way out and then stepped back into the sunshine to see that she had indeed waited for me. She had taken over one of the tall tables and I set the goodies down on it, handing the tea to her and urging to take one of the pastries.

I added sugar to my coffee, leaving the lid off and sipped at it. Surprised at the smoothness of the flavor considering it was a dark roast. "How did you know?"

She rolled her eyes. "Really? Like you didn't pick me first because of my gift?"

I shrugged. "The file we have has a code name that is suggestive, but no details on what you can do."

She snorted. "Well, then you have the wrong file."

"Possibly," I agreed. We hadn't dug too deep, not wanting to set off alerts at the ATCU or SHIELD. For the next time, we might dig deeper, know more about the person before we approached, but I'd make do with the little I knew on this occasion. What we had learned made it seem she might be amenable to breaking away from SHIELD and joining us. "But I don't think so."

She glanced around the area, eyes flicking over all the people nearby, her lips in a thin line.

"How about we take a walk?" I suggested. Remembering how things had gone in the cafe added, "You pick the direction."

One of her eyebrows rose into a delicate curve. "Huh, you do learn quick." She did that inward gaze again then nodded and picked up her cup, the croissant long gone at this point. "This way, kind sir."

We stepped out of the patio area and onto the sidewalk strolling side by side as if old acquaintances. No one looked at us twice. Hell, most people didn't look at us at all, most had their phones in hand or up against their ears. No wonder the country was going to hell, we'd forgotten how to interact with each other.

She led us to a nearby waterfront park and settled onto a bench sipping her tea. She crossed her legs and squinted up at me, the sun behind me as I let my eyes settle on the far shore.

"So, why did you choose me first?"

I shrugged. "Don't you know?"

"I don't see the past. I can see where the choice could lead you in the future, but I lack the insight as to the whys."

The matter of fact tone surprised me. "So you can really see the future?" I glanced over my shoulder at her.

"Futures," she corrected. "I'd tell you yours, but it would then knock it onto another path."

"How?" I turned about to watch her as she watched me. "How do you live knowing... everything?"

"I don't, not really. I have to focus on a specific subject to glean the details."

"And yet you know how this conversation will end?" I didn't expect to understand all the details, or even the broad strokes of how her powers worked and I had to trust that she did. That she could see exactly what she claimed.

"I know how this conversation  _has_  to end." She finished the last of the tea, stood and walked over to the nearest trash can to dispose of the now empty cup. "Trust me when I say I don't want to tell you no. We would accomplish some amazing things should I choose that path, but..."

"But?" I prompted as I stepped up next to her.

"But it would change too many other things. Make the final act a bigger tragedy than it already is destined to be." Her voice faded as she spoke, her attention on what she saw in her head and not the reality about her. I gently grasped her upper arm and steered her out of the direct flow of traffic and to a viewing area that stuck out over the river.

I could only wonder what she saw that she thought it better to continue to work for those that had unjustly imprisoned her instead of taking the chance at freedom by coming with me and having a real impact in the world. "And helping them makes everything better? I don't buy it."

SHIELD had its place, as did the ATCU, but the means did not justify the ends... ever. Especially not at the expense of one group of people.

She shook her head. "Not better, just less bad in the end."

"You know what's coming?" I questioned, just trying to understand.

She sighed heavily. "Death is coming." The put-upon tone was countered by the horror I could see in her eyes.

"Then help me stop it." Her eyes went wide as if I had been the first person to believe those words.

She managed a shaky laugh. "I am. Though you will come to hate me for it." She rubbed her forehead as conflicting emotions sputtered across her face. "In the end, you'll understand why I chose this particular path. You won't like it, but you'll understand."

I could see her dislike of the path she had chosen and could only wonder what sacrifices would be required for the  _better_  ending she aimed for. "Come with me, with us, maybe we can change it together? " I tried for hopeful and pleading at the same time, not wanting to push, but somehow knowing she could be of the utmost importance to the future, and of more than just myself and other enhanced.

"You think I haven't looked at every possibility? Followed every tributary from this moment to see where they end? I have to walk away at this particular fork in the road." She shrugged. "Even my path is not clear and I must tread with care in the here and now to prevent straying too far." Her voice doing that faraway thing again. Then she blinked several times and returned to the here and now. "Capt-"

"Jacob," I interjected hastily, glancing at the few near us to make certain they still went about their own business and lacked any interest in ours.

"He's a ghost, you know, and appears to bring a warning to Scrooge."

My turn to blink. "Who?"

She chuckled. "And here I thought you chose the name deliberately. Have you seen A Christmas Carol?"

I had, but not recently so I gave it a quick review in my mind. "Oh. That's why the name sounded familiar. Sam chose the name," I explained. "Are you saying I'm a ghost?"

She shrugged. "You're about to bitch slap some of the most powerful people on the planet to make a point. The ghosts of Christmas Past and Present ganging up to force people to see the truth."

I was more than a touch taken aback by the calmness in her voice as she spoke. As if everything had been foreordained. "I don't  _want_  to do this. But someone has to stand up and push back. What's being done is wrong. No question."

She gave me a grim smile. "Still don't like bullies, eh?"

I narrowed my eyes at her. "No, I don't. I fought then, if I don't now, then when? After they've all been put into amber?"

She nodded slowly. "There's one bit of advice I can give you, though I don't know that it will make any difference." She stepped forward, a single finger poking me in the chest. "Trust in yourself and be what you are."

I looked down at the finger hitting me in the exact same spot Erskine had; the sense of deja vu impossibly strong. "And what is that?" I asked. Lately, there had been much mental dithering over that precise subject.

"Simple. A good man."

Her hand dropped and she stepped back watching me as I stood there stunned. She had done nothing more than remind me of where this all began.

By the time I'd gathered my wits about me she had begun to walk away. "Wait-" I needed to understand how she could know something that clearly had bearing on my future, but had come from my past. A past she claimed she could not see.

She spun about. "Oh, one more thing," she continued walking backward, easily dodging the few people on the pathway with her, "he will be fighting by your side again. Sooner than you think."

And on those words she spun about and strode away, not once looking back.

 


End file.
